


Black walls and Black Intentions

by HardingHightown



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragon Age Fusion, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-28 18:01:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3864424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HardingHightown/pseuds/HardingHightown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blackwall x Cadash AU: Blackwall is an undercover Detective. Siba Cadash is part of an organised crime collective he is investigating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He wasn’t going to be Detective Thom Ranier for a while. That was the brief. That’s all he had to do. And after the incident with the kids in the domestic case, he wasn’t sure he minded forgetting his own name for a while.

He’d been cleared of all fault, but it still weighed heavy on him. He switched departments to try and give the some distance, and somehow he’d wound up in vice. Hardly an easy break, but he’d manage. If it meant giving people a chance to change he was all for it. And the case seemed simple enough- track some badly cut supply that was making its way onto the Knight’s Templar campus uptown. Save some kids, put away some crooks. It seemed fair game to him.

He’d been watching the little music store up on 40th for a few days now. Their contact had promised that would be the easiest way in. Every day, the girl would come in, open up, serve practically no one, and leave. It didn’t seem criminal, but then again how was it staying open with no customers?

Today was the day he made contact. Today he wasn’t Thom Ranier. Today he started his life undercover.

 

As he pushed the door a little bell chimed, but the girl didn’t seem to notice. She was bent over double, head in a box of records with the biggest pair of headphones he’d ever seen. Trying to look busy, he had a quick flick through the closest shelf. Black Sabbath - Tori Amos - B*Witched? If this was the level of organisation in this family, he thought to himself, he shouldn’t have any problem busting them wide open.

“Sorry, didn’t see you there. Browsing or buying?”

He looked up, and finally saw the face of the girl he’d been trailing. Only she wasn’t really a girl, as such. From behind, dressed in baggy jeans and hoodies, she looked like she might be a teenager, but in the face he saw signs that she was at least ten years out of teenage. Her coarse copper hair was haphazardly braided and twisted, and a long scar ran over one of her golden brown eyes. He then realised he must be staring…

“Buying. Hopefully. I’m looking for something.”

“Artist?”

“I’m not sure, exactly. My friend Varric told me I could find something rare here.”

Her eyes darkened, and the smile she’d given him wiped away. “Varric?”

“Tethras”

“Yeah, I know which Varric. Asshole owes me two grand. What are you looking for? His music tastes are… eclectic.”

“He said he’d call you.”

“Did he now…”

He didn’t. Of course he didn’t, Thom thought. They shouldn’t have relied on any information that lying rat gave. He said he’d give them a story in exchange for protection, but he should have known there’d be something wrong with it…

Finally, she broke the silence. “You must be Bianca’s cousin, right?” She turned away from him and started filing the records once more. “He didn’t give me anything. Just told me he was sending someone down. I guess that’s his idea of payment. What did you say your name was?”

He hadn’t, so he did.

She stood up again, her face suddenly confused. “Did you say Blackwall?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “No. Baccio. As in-”

“Bartolommeo, right. I get it. Sorry. This ear is shot.” she lifted up a thick section of braid, revealing very little of what remained of her left ear. “Literally.”

He smiled at her, and asked her the same. He knew her name though. He had seen her face, her mugshot at least, plastered on their connections wall at head office, with the name held up beneath her… it seemed impossible that this tiny girl could possibly be-

“Dash Siberini.” She leaned over the counter to shake his hand, and he realised how tiny she was. It was one thing looking at a height chart on a picture, but her hand in his felt so small.

She came around the counter, grabbing a few loose records up as she went. “Listen, I don’t have what you’re looking for in stock. I’ll see what I can pull, though. Might be able to get something sorted for tomorrow, late. You could come by the club.”

He followed her, staying close. He remembered mention that there may be a venue linked to the family. “Haven, right?”

“We have a good DJ in tomorrow. It should be a good night. I’ll put you on the door.”

“That’s great. I’ll see you tomorrow then-”

Before he could leave, she was suddenly in front of him. Her eyes peering up at him seemed to look straight through, as if she were reading his soul.

“You know, Black Wall… it suits you. What with those shoulders. And your… tall. Your tallness. And this of course.” she reached a hand to his face and quickly ran her fingers over his beard. The touch made him shiver, though he couldn’t tell if it was fear… or…

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Baccio. Come around midnight, I’ll have something good for ya.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended listening: Swedish House Mafia: One (Your Name). The club in the video is how I imagine Haven. Warning, it’s pretty dark…!
> 
> A continuation of this (as yet unnamed Blackwall AU). Duwan Cadash belongs to elivhenan. Idunn Cadash belongs to undead-potatoes. Mira Lavellan (who will feature again more prominently and not just as nameless DJ!) belongs to mortinfamiart, I hope I’ve kept them in character…

Thom could hear the club from around the corner, the thick bass thumping out around the chilled night air. As he approached, he saw that the queue for Haven spread all around the block, but a man beckoned him forward as soon as he saw him. Shame. He could have done with a little more time to compose himself. It had been a long time since he had been to a club, especially one like this.

 

Haven itself was down a long flight of stairs, seemingly reaching further and further into the pits of the city. Strung out kids blocked the stairs, but the man pushed them out of the way to make space with ease. Though the man was short, he was stocky, and the kids didn’t stand a chance.

The music grew deafening as they reached the main door. As the man pushed them open, a rich green light flooded Thom’s eyes. He could barely see for people. How was he supposed to find Dash? The man kept moving, and Thom worked hard to keep up, pushing through writhing forms on the dance floor… though he found it hard to carve through, unlike his companion. The beat of the track was deafening, and he wasn’t anywhere near the booth yet. He could just about make out a slender blonde woman with dozens of piercings spinning the decks, and from the look of the room she was doing a great job of it. Hundreds of bodies were packed in, jumping in time with each other. Dash was tiny. How would he find her?

Damn it, he’d lost the man now too. Thom stood there, jostled side to side by enthusiastic partygoers, feeling like the oldest man in the room by at least ten years. He’d have to find her himself. With care, trying not to touch… anything, he pushed his way further into the throng.

Then he saw her.

There, stood on the top of a huge speaker. She was hurling herself in to the music, all limbs and hair and swinging hips. She wore a tiny white vest, and he noticed a sleeved tattoo running up her arm, all hard black lines that he couldn’t make out right now. By God, he’d never seen anybody dance like that. She could do herself an injury…

She spotted him quickly at least, pointing at him with wide eyes and an open mouth that he assumed was calling out something. She leant into the DJ booth and kissed the woman harshly, before jumping down and pushing through the crowds towards him. When she reached him (which seemed like a miracle, given the fact that the DJ seemed to have done something that made the music a hundred times louder and the thrashing of the crowd even more frantic), she grabbed his hand without a sound, pulling him past the DJ booth, past the bar and the restrooms and into the back.

“You made it! Didn’t Duwan come and meet you?”

He noticed her eyes were huge, her pupils like saucers.

“Are you high?”

“I’m all out, I’ll have to get you some later. Where’s Duwan?”

He assumed she meant the man at the front. “I lost him.”

“Fucking careless. If he’s already in there, I’m going to be in shit.”

He didn’t have time to ask her where “there” was before she dragged him on further, to a door at the very back, and knocked.

“You ready, Baccio?”

He didn’t have time to answer. The man he’d met at the front opened the door, and grinned at them. “Glad to see you could make it, Dash.”

She rolled her eyes as she pushed past him. “Bite me, Duwan.”

The man tutted, and stepped out of the way to let Thom enter. “My sister, ever the charmer. Come in, take a seat. You got a drink?”

“I’m good.” Truth be told, he wasn’t. This felt wrong. Like a trap. She knew who he really was, and now this smiling assassin was going to shoot him in the head. The room had a long desk, and plenty of drawers which could conceal weapons…

“It’s good you’re nervous,” Dash said, pouring herself a long class of what seemed to be Tequila. “You don’t want to seem over-confident. She hates that.”

He didn’t have time to ask whom. The door at the back swung open, and Duwan and Dash moved to position. The woman went straight to behind the desk, tapping it twice. Duwan poured a large scotch then stood back, waiting for her to speak. The room was silent for a good while, the beat of the club matching the beat of Thom’s heart in his temples.

The woman leant forward. Her skin was two tone, in a way Thom had only seen once before. This was Idunn, and Idunn was not to be fucked with.

“What’s your name?” she asked him gruffly. He didn’t have time to answer before Dash piped up. “He’s Bartolommeo Davri.”

“Baccio” he said with a smile.

“The Black Wall,” Idunn responded, her eyes still steel as she looked him up and down. “That’s what you called him, Dash? It fits.”

“I know, right? Built like a brick shit house.”

“I’ve seen bigger,” Duwan chipped in, appraising Thom’s body in a way he wasn’t sure was entirely business.

“What have you been doing since Bianca got put away?” Idunn asked, downing her scotch in one unbroken swig, her eyes not leaving him for a second. “It’s been how long exactly.”

“Four months, ma’am. I’ve been keeping collections going, but the money was drying.”

“You enforce?”

“Drive, mostly.” The less he got blood on his hands, the better. Heads were turned in vice, but only so far.

Idunn looked from him to Dash. He was grateful. There was something in that stare that made him feel like a naughty school kid. “Dash, you can show him the ropes?”

Dash smiled in a way that warmed his blood slightly. “You bet boss.”

“And take responsibility?”

Duwan choked a laugh back. Dash noticed, glaring at him, before turning back to her boss and smiling sweetly. “Of course.”

Idunn reached into a draw and threw him a set of keys.

“You drive stick?” He nodded. “Then that’s settled. Duwan is your boss. You get your money from him. You run with Dash.” She stood, turning to leave out of the back door. “No money for the first week. Don’t fuck up, Blackwall. We’re watching you.”

As soon as she left, Duwan clapped him on the back with a force that almost sent him flying. “Welcome to the family, Baccio!” he cried, kissing him firmly on each cheek. “You must be mad to want to run with us, but we’ll look after you.”

Dash reached into the draw and got out another set of keys. “I hate that stupid muscle car,” she said, changing the keys in his hand. “I want to pull up tomorrow with some dignity.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t see that, sister.”

“You better kiddo!”

She kissed the man’s forehead and then grabbed Thom’s hand, pulling him back out towards the club… but before they hit the main room, she dragged him in to the restrooms. They stank of piss, and there was a girl collapsed in the only free cubicle… or at least there was until Dash dragged her out by her hair, pushing Thom in, down on to the seat and locking the door behind them.

“That couldn’t have gone better, Blackwall,”

“I-”

Before he could say anything else, her mouth was on his, her tongue pushing his lips open. She tasted of the tequila, of beer, and of something else he couldn’t quite identify.

She pulled away, pulling her top off over her head and smiling at him with a feral glint in her eye. He noted that she hadn’t been wearing a bra, and that her tattoo spread from around her arm to under her small, pert breast…

“You just going to stare, Baccio? Or are you gonna show me just how grateful you are?”

 

He supposed it would be the latter.


End file.
